For the past four days, I circumnavigated the Olympic Peninsula in Washington with a friend and it was a pilgrimage for several reasons. This amazing piece of land boasts everything from mountains to endless coastline…and Forks. I’ve now been to the northwestern-most point in the lower 48 (Cape Flattery—and it is beautiful), I’ve hiked in the Mainland’s only rain forest, I’ve seen tribal lands and, most importantly, I’ve been to the town where the Twilight series takes place. When I picked up my friend Grace at Sea-Tac Airport and started our four-hour drive to the campground, she grinned and said, “You know, we are heading into Twilight land.” Grace is half my age, but I knew better than to feign ignorance—I rank among the 40-somethings who read and saw every book and movie in the vampire/werewolf series that captured the hearts and minds of teen girls everywhere. In my defense, it did escape me that I would be traveling to where Bella, Edward and Jacob left their indelible mark.

But, we left it at that—smiling smugly that our friends would be jealous of many things about our four-day journey and, perhaps, most of all, the Twilight part (I promise, no judgment here). On our first day, we wandered the coastline and then hiked into the Hoh Rainforest, an impossibly verdant and lush landscape, even in a drought year. On our way out of the park, we were treated to a small herd of elk, presided over by an aging, but still majestic, bull. Hungry from our long trek, we went in search of a clam shack and ended up in the nearest town—Forks. This otherwise nondescript enclave, historically known for lumber, had been taken over by Twilight fever—from hardware stores to candy shops, every commercial establishment attempted to promote some, often clumsy, connection to the trilogy. To boot, the Twilight series was celebrating a decade of teen obsession that very weekend and Forks was pulling out the stops to celebrate, with a complete schedule ranging from a costumed Bella brunch to a book signing opportunity with author Stephenie Meyers (think of it as a Star Trek convention). Unable to find a clam shack, we went into a burger joint that promised “Love at first bite.” Groan. Inside, surrounded by posters, books, t-shirts and more, we wolfed (get it?!) down our food and gawked at the devotees in town for the event. From teen-aged girls, accompanied by very patient and indulgent parents, to older women, accompanied by very patient and indulgent husbands, Twilighters came in all female packages.

Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that we would be mistaken for girls who were there on purpose, we made a run for it back to our campground, vowing never to return. We attempted to fill the following days cleansing ourselves with beautiful scenery, but I have no doubt that the Twilight experience will be what we remember, years from now, when we tell the story of traveling around the Olympic Peninsula—and, I suppose, that’s OK. At least we have proof, in the form of pictures, that this part of the world has far more to offer than a shrine to teen-aged vampire love.